


This Close

by Nautilusopus



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Character Study, Cloud loves his friends, Cloud's relationship with both of the above, Gen, Introspection, Light Angst, Post-Series, Unconditional Love, crisis core and dirge are still firmly non-canon, even outside the context of a relationship cloud just really loves his friends, guys can we appreciate how much Cloud loves his friends, hard drive spring cleaning, how does one write platonic post-coital spooning?, human contact, too lazy to beta, touch-starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 21:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13467120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nautilusopus/pseuds/Nautilusopus
Summary: Cloud lies in bed and thinks about a lot of things, like how warm it is, and why it's as warm as it is, and what it's like to be out in the cold where nothing is warm at all.





	This Close

**Author's Note:**

> Another thing sitting around on my hard drive for about a year and a half or so. **The original sort of prompt for this was "Happiest Memory".** Which I toyed with a lot, because it could have been the first time Zack spoke to him, or when he finally got to settle down with Tifa, or when he was out with Aeris just enjoying himself, or hanging out with Barret or anyone in his family soaking up all that social interaction, but I feel like that always would have been undercut with some sort of anxiety. Just a little. Like "wow they like you so much even though you're an absolutely shitshow of a person" or "i don't know why you're wasting your time with me but i'm going to take advantage of it for as long as i can". The happier he gets the more he works himself into a lather about how he isn't worthy of this sort of company, because he's a fucking idiot and that's just how he do. So instead I decided to capture the exact moment he actually manages to work through that pattern for the first time in his life. 
> 
> Not particularly happy with this one. May go back and redo it at some point, but as with the others, the alternative was either deleting them or just leaving them there to gather dust. Besides, things are about to get rough in The Number I and the fic with him hanging out with Avalanche isn't done yet, and I figure if I don't outsource the hugs to _somewhere_ I'll get mauled.

_How could she possibly stand it?_ was his first thought, once all the dust had settled.

They lay in bed, Cloud's legs drawn up towards him, facing the window, with Tifa curled around him, her fingers wrapping around his arm. It was too warm at that point for covers -- they had opened a window already, a cool breeze blowing through, the scent of decaying leaves lingering in traces too faint for anyone besides perhaps Nanaki to detect, and it was still warm. Tifa was asleep from either heat or exhaustion or perhaps both, or would be very soon. She was warm against him -- moreso than usual, due to their activity not ten minutes earlier. And with the mako burning hot in his arteries, giving him what was for all intents and purposes a permanent fever, he could only imagine how warm he felt to her.

How could anyone stand that? A half-buried memory, still corroded with green haze, emerged, someone in the barracks making a joke about how it was too hot to spoon, and sneaking out the window. He hadn't really gotten the joke before before, but now, having a real bed underneath him rather than grass and cold earth and rocks, or a bedroll on hard wood, he eyed the window amusedly, imagining Tifa's face if she knew he had decided to sneak out into the street buck naked to cool off.

Tifa's breathing slowed. Now she was certainly asleep, if she hadn't been before. It was never really quiet in the bar, at least for him. The pipes weren't rattling for once, and the building was empty. Some sort of rodent scampered outside to go through their skip. He made a mental note to incinerate the lot of it properly. There weren't any laws against destructive magic of that calibre out in the wastes.

He felt himself dozing off. He had to get rid of the rats... they were going through their trash, biting at their hands... even here in bed, Aeris was right against him, her elbow jabbing into his cheek as they held their breaths, waiting for the guard to pass. Even here, he didn't mind it much. Perhaps they could just use the bed sheets to keep the rats away. It was nice to be this close to --

He jolted awake, though he hadn't truly been asleep either. It didn't hurt as much to think of her these days -- a dull ache followed every recollection of their days travelling, before it faded, as it always did. Tifa seemed to be having a harder time than he was. He wanted to help, but wasn't sure if he should ask. Perhaps she simply didn't wish to tell him. They had been close too, after all.

Tifa's scent had rubbed off on him, as had her flowery shampoo. It was nice. It smelled nice.

_This close?_

He wasn't sure why it had felt nice, getting elbowed in the face in a rat-filled closet. He knew, of course, that the whole experience had been largely positive, since she had been there, as had Nanaki a few minutes later, tottering wildly on his hind legs, proud he had managed an absolutely normal bipedal stance for as long as he had. They had spent time together, hadn't they? Of course it was nice.

...He could ignore this easily enough. Tifa was there, though, and so was everyone else, with his phone on the table an arm's length away. It would be alright to think inward for a little while.

This close...

Another memory surfaced. This one different, angled wrong, jammed in alongside another just like it, but not like it at all, and his breath caught. Zack.

Tifa was behind him. He could feel the steady thrum of her pulse through her skin. He, Cloud, was here, right next to her in this much-to-hot-but-not-entirely-unpleasant bed. Everything was fine.

Tifa wasn't at his back at all. Nothing was. The cold bit viciously into him, blowing through his shirt and the worn, grubby blanket as though he was naked and bare and drenched in water from that stupid, frozen, worthless, fishless lake. He clutched something -- someone -- to his chest. It was important, more important than anything, that he stayed warm. He owed him that much. The world owed him that much, but the world wasn't giving them shit, that much was clear. So it was up to him.

Cloud slept on beneath him, oblivious. His hands too were ice, but he could feel against his stomach that the rest of him was weathering the blizzard well enough, sandwiched between the cave wall and the rest of Zack.

Another memory slipped in next to the sharper one, and this one felt hazy and surreal and right to recall.

Someone pressed up against him. It was warm here, and dark, with bits of white sneaking in from behind them. His thoughts were sluggish, so he tried to focus on one thing. That was all he could handle.

The thumping noise, coming from next to his ear. It was steady and slow, and the warmth seemed to leak from it into him.

 _Zack is here,_ was all he managed to think. _Zack is here. We're here together._

Reassured, he allowed the haze to claim his mind again. That was all that needed to be thought.

There were no more memories after that -- not from him, anyway. He curled his toes up and pulled his legs a bit closer to himself. Suddenly the bed seemed a bit colder.

It had been nice, being held like that. He understood this a bit better, at least. There had been jeers, and jabs, and all sorts of comments. They were soldiers, after all, even without the capital S. They were soldiers who didn't need any weaknesses. Cloud never could have explained it to Zack, even if he were still here. It wasn't something any self-respecting soldier should want. Soldiers did not yearn for human contact. Soldiers did not spend long hours thinking about the best way to ask for company, let alone a hug, let alone to spend time against another human being that cared they existed for the simple pleasure of feeling less lonely despite being surrounded by people. And Zack was the best soldier there was, and certainly never got lonely. He could never ask something like that of him.

But he did it, hadn't he? And he did it often -- held him. Spoke to him. Cherished every minute they had together because soon they'd have to let go and the cold would bite into them again, drawing blood. They had been afraid, and frostbitten, and starving, and in the case of Nibelheim, often bleeding and drugged.

He wished Zack had asked him. Then they could have been happy memories, and not stolen encounters of something he desperately wished for given as a means of survival.

Tifa stirred against his back, pulling him a bit closer. She was doing it now, wasn't she? Perhaps that's why she did it. Did Tifa get lonely in a roomful of people, too?

Was it for him? Was it for _her_?

Something clicked for him then, something he had never understood before, like a dislocated joint snapping back into place, or a cut being healed away. Something he had wanted to believe for years, but couldn't, until today.

She loved him.

He had always known as much, on some logical level — they had never exchanged much in the way of sweet nothings, but they had lived together, made love, were in the same bed. But now it meant something different. He was safe with Tifa, who wanted to keep him safe as much as he wanted to her. She wanted to do this because — incredibly, impossibly, unbelievably — she loved him. She knew what he was, knew what things he had done, and had still chosen to love him. And they were safe.

And someone loved him. She loved him.

Tears began to well up in his eyes, and he clutched her hand more closely to his breast, breathed in a lungful of her scent. He allowed himself to smile, knowing she couldn't see it. It wasn't for her, not really. It was for himself.

 _I love you_ , he thought, savouring the words. He did not say it to her. Perhaps it wouldn't be welcome. Perhaps he was still afraid to hear himself say it.

He would change that.

**Author's Note:**

> Cloud is always little spoon that's just the rules


End file.
